


Used

by illumelnati, kuillsins (EykielAfterDark)



Category: Kiss His Son, Original Work
Genre: Abuse, Blood, Dildos, M/M, Manipulation, Master/Pet, Mindbreak, Rape, Role Reversal, Sex Toys, Stockholm Syndrome, Torture, Vale is ANGRY, noncon, pet/master
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-31
Updated: 2020-01-31
Packaged: 2021-02-25 10:28:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,872
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22494589
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/illumelnati/pseuds/illumelnati, https://archiveofourown.org/users/EykielAfterDark/pseuds/kuillsins
Summary: UPDATE AUG 2020: Just a warning that this story was commissioned way before I even made the KissHisSon Twitter, so A LOT of things have changed when it comes to the storyline... this scenario does happen in theory but not exactly like this fic anymore, the characters changed a lot too so just bear in mind that this fic's a little old, but more or less still readable! Thanks!Context for this is very important! As you all know Celeste manipulates the living Hell out of Vale, during the 'discipline times' when Vale was still disobedient/angry/hateful towards Celeste, Celeste uses a lot of guilt-tripping to manipulate and make Vale feel bad for his actions. When things get too rough/terrible Vale sometimes loses his composure completely and may even be so angry enough to rape Celeste himself, just to give him a taste of what it feels like. When that happens, Celeste cries and cries and cries like it hurts so much just to make Vale feel horrible and sorry for him. He loves drama so when it happens he'll let it happen. So, yeah! This scenario is exactly that! :)This was an art trade/commission with K-uill!!! They're absolutely terrible and I love them!!! Enjoy everyone!
Relationships: Celeste/Vale
Comments: 2
Kudos: 15
Collections: KHS





	Used

**Author's Note:**

> Introduction: 'Kiss His Son' is an original project created by illumelnati. You can view artworks and a bunch of more stuff for this lore at @KissHisSon on Twitter.

Celeste doesn’t ever welcome him at the door, but he’s there now.

Vale stops in his tracks.

In return, Celeste flashes him just the briefest of smiles before going back into the house.

Vale’s left on the pathway, fingers trembling around the packs of supplies he’d been sent to buy, knowing the door will be locked, knowing it’s no use, knowing — just knowing — he’s really going to get it.

“Seventeen minutes,” says Celeste.

Vale stays on his knees on the doormat, eyes on the white leather of Celeste’s shoes.

“Trying to ply me with obedience won’t work this time, pet. Not after all these warnings. It’s like you never learn.”

Celeste steps forward and tilts Vale’s head up with the tip of his shoe.

“What am I to do with a disobedient pet,” Celeste muses.

“I’m sorry,” Vale says.

“You’re always sorry after,” says Celeste. 

That crimson gaze sharpens. Celeste kicks him across the jaw so hard and fast that something cracks. No way he’d stay upright if he hadn’t been bracing for it. 

Little spots of red dot his thighs, the shimmering floorboards, he swallows the rest of it before returning to his kneeling position. 

“Why can’t you be sorry  _ before,  _ pet?” says Celeste, barely audible over the hollow throbbing in his ears. 

Squatting so they’re eye level, his slender fingers snake out to wrench Vale’s head upwards by the hair. And pull again, harder, to force a groan from his gritted jaws. 

Just one more thing he’ll be punished for.

“I’m sorry,” gasps Vale again, straining to keep his voice level.

Celeste tilts his head. “Your apologies mean so little,” he remarks, before letting go. He stands. “Pack the things away and make yourself ready. Don’t keep me waiting any more than you already have.”

“Yes, Celeste.”

It’s deliberate and Celeste knows it. Vale knows what’s expected of him but he just  _ can’t. _ He hasn’t sunk this low yet. 

“Yes  _ Master,” _ Celeste corrects, as he always does.

Vale stays silent, so Celeste just turns to walk to his favorite room, a bounce in every step.

He kneels between Celeste’s legs to let him run fingers through his hair. Tilts his chin back as Celeste fingers the chafing beneath that heavy iron collar. 

Tries to stay still, so desperately still, when Celeste brushes fingers over his blind eye in the kindest warning he’ll ever get. 

“Strip,” says Celeste.

Vale does. Getting the clothes free while staying on his knees is a challenge — Celeste likes to watch him struggle.

“All the way down.”

Jaws gritted, Vale tugs away the loincloth and places it on the rest of his folded clothes. Pets have no use for shame, Celeste had told him once, a long time ago, Pets have no  _ right _ to feel shame.

Especially not here in the room where Celeste’s taken whatever dignity he had and spat on it, fucked it, strangled it, sliced into it, pissed on it, … Vale’s lost count of all the times he’s been in this dark room breathing its stagnant air, waiting out time that never passes. There’s light coming from somewhere but he can’t figure out  _ where,  _ transparent golden light that warms the ombre tones of Celeste’s skin, throws shadows across the fine pearl strands of his silky hair, dropping glimmering highlights on his bottom lip and his eyes,  _ those eyes, _ gleam like drops of blood suspended in milk—

Every time Vale moves he hears the leash and chains move. Celeste makes a sound every time he moves, too, the crisp, clean sound of his gold earrings, his gold pendant, the bangles around his slender marionette wrists — like offerings placed on a marble statuette. 

Sitting on his favorite chair, chin on one hand, a bored prince waiting for his plaything, he’s so beautiful and so horrifying at the same time. 

He looks like a devil. He looks like a god. 

Vale bows his head further.

“So, pet. Which old lady did you help to cross the bridge today, hmm? Or were you rescuing some sorry kitty out of a tree? Chasing down a snatch thief? Stopping bullies from hitting some sad schoolgirl?”

“The passing storm upended some of the grocer’s stock.”

“And of course you helped to rearrange it. I assume someone got injured.”

“The shopkeep.”

“Caved ribcage?”

“A wooden beam fell on her and broke her ankle.”

Even without looking, he can  _ feel _ Celeste winding up tighter and tighter, like a snake. “Did you carry her to the physician, pet?”

“Yes.”

“That’s all?”

Vale hesitates—

And then he’s coughing out the last of his air, Celeste’s knee pinning him to the floor at his throat. Vale grips his fists so tight they hurt. 

“That’s all?” asks Celeste again, calmly.

Vale forces out, “I paid her bill.” His breath hitches. 

“Hm.”

“There was extra left over, and, and she— hrgh,” Vale chokes. Celeste merely looks on with those impassive red eyes. He forces himself to go on, “The, t-the splint was expensive—”

_ “Expensive?” _

No moving, Vale knows, but he can’t help grab at the overwhelming pressure on his throat as Celeste grabs the end of the leash and kneels up on his torso for better leverage —

and  _ pulls. _ Vale’s vision blurs. 

“I give you money to sustain your needs and you spend it on some pauper with an injured  _ foot?” _

“She needed help--”

“You  _ dare _ misappropriate what little I give you—”

_ “Cele— ple… grk,  _ please, Ce… _ hrg—” _

“—and expect me to be  _ fine _ with it? Roll over and let you save every little wretched soul you meet in your path? Although I explicitly commanded you not to?”

_ It sounds like Celeste’s an entire world away. _

“Should I pay to open a hospice too? Or a school? Another herbalist’s? Should… pay for the sick… medicine… pet…”

Vale’s grip slackens—

Air. Vale barely chokes down a breath before Celeste’s up against him. Fingers locking tight around his windpipe. Nails clawing hard against his left nipple, pulling the metal ring stabbed through it so hard it’ll bleed. He doesn’t have any breath left to make a sound. 

_ “... Now _ you’re sorry.  _ Now _ you beg like the pet you are.”

Celeste’s smile grows. 

Teeth fasten tight around Vale’s lower lip, harder, harder,  _ harder, _ and the taste of iron floods his mouth — Celeste’s lapping at him now, even as his other hand locks tight around Vale’s cock and balls and squeezes so hard Vale makes a gasping, broken sound. 

“You’re a real piece of work, you know,” remarks the boy casually. 

Mercy comes too long later, when the room is spinning and dark around the edges. He still needs to fight to breathe — Celeste’s got his legs crossed, peering down at Vale from where he’s sitting on the man’s heaving torso. 

“Ungrateful bitch,” says Celeste, once Vale’s lucid enough to hear, “Perhaps I could help you fix this problem. Walk you there in chains and shackles myself. Parade you up and down so your friends understand that  _ being there is not your place.” _

Celeste waits. Vale does too; it isn’t his place to speak, either.

“Or…” The slightest smirk. “I could demand you slay the entire village with a skinning knife.”

Vale’s eyes widen. 

“Actually, I’m sure you can get the job done with a blunted nail.”

And his breath stutters.

“Of course that horrifies you. My kind hearted pet.” 

Celeste cups his chin with a warm, soft hand and purrs and coos and soothes. His eyes glitter. His touch is feather light. 

“And yet you killed that vagrant. You broke his legs and arms one by one and watched the lights in his eyes disappear. All because I asked.”

It isn’t like Vale has a  _ choice.  _ Familiars and pets and servants are expected to do  _ everything _ their masters ask — unto death or sickness, through hell and back — their lives belong to their masters. 

“My poor pet.”

Even if nobody’s thought of keeping a human pet before. 

He’s never had a choice. Compared to mass murder, disobeying a master’s will is unfathomable. 

“My obedient pet.”

And it’s like a switch’s been flicked. 

“And you know what?”

Behind those eyes of ruby red something dark and viscous is uncoiling, bubbling, threatening to overflow, richest honey marred with blood just on the verge of clotting—

“You’ll reduce yourself to a pathetic shadow of a human being at my command because for all your resentment, you’ll  _ never _ dare go against the word of your  _ master.” _

Vale closes his eyes.

“I can’t imagine how it feels, being humiliated like that. Pets are… Well, in a way I always kind of admired them. A little.”

Abruptly, Celeste hops off. The front of his robes are stained with blood and moss scraped off the stone floor. He makes his way over to the line of implements hanging from their hooks in the wall.

“Come here and present yourself. Which shall it be today. The toothed whip or the flogger?” 

Vale’s throat clenches. His knees are shaking too much to support his weight for long. His chest is streaked with red, an odd-shaped nub all that’s remaining of his left nipple—

“Both? Maybe both—”

_ “You.” _

Vale hears his voice, raspy and scoured with strain, hoarse and angry and hollow even before he registers his mouth moving. 

Celeste doesn’t slow. He already has the long toothed whip and the nine-tailed flogger in hand, but now he reaches out for a cane. 

“I will pretend I didn’t hear that,” says Celeste. 

Vale is before him instantly. The boy, two heads shorter, tilts his head back to make eye contact. 

“I could kill you.”

“You could,” says Celeste. 

His cane strikes the inside of Vale’s thigh. Vale snarls. The whip comes next, tearing a jagged line down the arm Vale tries to shield himself with. Another long line of fire across his crotch, then that little bit lower—

Vale grabs the boy’s wrist before the flogger can meet his face. 

Celeste looks just the littlest bit surprised. 

“Oh, is the region’s strongest warrior finally going to fight back against his master?” The boy’s death-white grin grows, wild and unhinged. “You would break centuries of tradition to ruin this bond?”

It’s just a rite. Once a year when the summer is its hottest people can go out and claim new pets in the colosseum, felling beasts dragged in from far and wide to clap iron collars around their bleeding necks — 

He’s on the wrong side of the chain. So what does it mean to him? 

He’s been here grovelling like a mutt, all for what? 

Who is he?

The region’s champion? A once-free human, now humiliated? A to-be tale of liberation? 

_ Who is he? _

Celeste swings his other arm. Vale swats the cane out of his grip, snares the boy’s other wrist, slams him on the nearest table.

“You don’t know what I’m capable of doing,” he growls.

“You would kill me?” asks Celeste. 

Of course Vale wants to kill him. Celeste knows this.

Vale says, “You can’t imagine how it feels to be your own pet?” He tightens his hold and is rewarded with a breathy gasp through that infuriating smile. “Why don’t we swap places for a bit. And masters don’t take  _ no _ for an answer—”

“Good.” Celeste squirms, Vale pins his legs down with his thigh. “Make me regret it then,” Celeste goes on, grinning impossibly wider, “Or I will make sure you realise once and for all that you  _ are _ a pet. You are and will always be _ nothing _ but my pet.”

He’s had enough. He tightens his grip, ruthlessly. The flogger falls to the floor, the cane and whip soon after. 

“A pet for my every whim and fancy, nothing more and nothing less.”

Vale sucks in an angry breath, colors in the room suddenly growing brighter, hotter as he moves in to wound, to hurt, to show this demon what he can do — 

Celeste just laughs. 

And lets him. 

  
  


Celeste is pretty when he’s splayed out over the hard mattress like this, arching into himself with knees almost touching his elbows, plump lips forced open around boneless mewls and hitched whimpers, fists grasping helplessly at nothing where they’d been tied to one of the rings in the wall by Celeste’s own white robes —

“So how does it feel, Celeste?”

Vale slows his hips and the boy arches upwards into the air, chasing for more—

“How does it feel being a pet? Forced to take it even though it hurts? Even though you feel you're being prised apart from the inside, being ripped a thousand ways--”

Vale presses his entire weight down on Celeste’s trembling frame. Celeste writhes under him, barely able to move in this position, he really should know better, this is Celeste’s favorite position to keep Vale in for hours at a time -- the perfect angle to stuff implement after implement into Vale’s gaping entrance while being able to see his face all twisted up in agony, while pulling Vale’s head down so Vale can see his own entrance straining and splitting and leaking with blood and come and no, no, that's so much blood—

“--and all you want to do is die?”

Celeste shudders. His voice is tight. Shapeless. “Oh,  _ oh,  _ I— Ple—, I-I’m so close—”

“You’ll get nothing unless your master chooses to give it.”

Celeste looks very, very pretty like this, when Vale fastens his coarse, callused hands around Celeste’s neglected member and strokes faster and faster and _ faster. _ Celeste  _ screams. _ His sweaty, exhausted body tries to curl in on itself, his toes curling, unable to stop himself shaking like he’s dying —

“Answer me! How does it feel?”

“No no _ nono no, no please no—” _

“I’m not going to remove the cock ring, Celeste.”

“Please—  _ Ah!  _ — Please _ please! Pl— _ it’s too much I can’t I c-can’t I  _ can’t—!” _

“No, pet.” 

“Please! Don’t— I c… can’t—  _ Please!  _ It  _ hurts!” _

Vale crushes down on the boy again, another spurt of clear liquid joins the sticky smears on the boy’s shuddering midriff. 

“Poor pet,” murmurs Vale.

He doesn’t even know if Celeste hears.

It’s the first time Celeste has ever made sounds like these. It's so brutally satisfying but at the same time feel dirty and odd and  _ wrong  _ \-- the thought that Celeste was ever capable of these broken mewls has never once crossed his mind. Now Vale just can't decide if his gut's coiling in vindication or disgust. 

The boy kept silent at first but that had  _ fucking pissed Vale off, _ and Vale’s been so well acquainted with all of Celeste’s sickening tricks that after a few hours he’d reduced his once-proud, once-haughty, once-perfect captor to an incoherent, useless body that only knew pain and pleasure. 

And finally seeing Celeste get what he’s always given, in some warped way… it was almost hot. 

Vale’s had to steady himself. Pace himself. Being so much smaller makes Celeste so  _ fucking tight. _ Vale already came once, shooting semen all over the boy’s flawless brown skin and into his gasping mouth — but he's close once again, too. 

Still, Vale wants to drag it out. Every last action. After all, he’s just paying Celeste back in kind.

“Ungrateful little bitch. Protesting when your master fucks you good and hard like you deserve.”

“I… oh —  _ ngh—!” _

“Does it hurt, pet? Your little dick looks so hard and painful… Should I fuck you until you come even with the cock ring on?” 

Beyond words now, Celeste can only shake his head. So much sweat pearls on the tips of his silver hair.

“Oh, are you surprised that it hurts? That’s right. It does. You made me do that, remember? You drugged me and tied my cock up with a little ribbon and fucked me with one of your favorite dildos until I passed out.”

Too bad there isn’t a collar or leash for him to tug on. But how can he let Celeste miss out on the choking? He wraps his thick fingers around Celeste’s soft neck. Squeezes — watches the boy’s eyes roll back.

After all, Celeste  _ loves _ choking. 

With his other hand twisting at the boy’s nipple as hard as he can, nails and all, Vale pushes Celeste’s legs further apart with his thighs. Cruel, he knows, but he’s learned from the best — he waits until Celeste’s eyes crack open and focus, blearily, with effort, before starting up the pace again. Ruthlessly aiming for that one spot which has the boy melting bonelessly against the bed and just trying to ride it out. 

It’s almost terrifying being able to see that desperation give way to resignation. 

“Open your eyes.”

Like a fire, reduced to embers and white smoke. 

“Open your  _ fucking eyes, pet!” _

Celeste doesn’t.

“Fine.”

Vale pulls out and the boy doesn’t know what to do with himself, twitching and shuddering as he wrenches his thighs together, so crushingly frenzied for more and yet given far too much for him to take. 

Celeste  _ whines _ when Vale hits him, head lolling to one side. His cheek will bruise soon enough—

He’d fuck Celeste’s mouth fast and hard, choke him on all that precum and tears. Nothing like a good skull fuck to put someone in his place, Vale’s learned from experience. But no way Celeste wouldn’t bite down, and he can’t find any of the ring gags. 

No matter. There are plenty of other toys to play with.

Celeste’s body is still wrecked with stray twitches when Vale comes back. 

His red eyes fly open. 

“No. N-No, it won’t fit—”

Ah, yes. This is all too familiar territory for Vale. 

A shame Celeste had only ever given him one reply.

“Don’t worry, pet. I’ll make it fit.”

It’s a monster, long and curved and knobbed all the way down. Two full weeks of relentless training was barely enough — one plug after another, each large enough to make Vale’s vision white out matter how he tries to adapt — whenever Celeste uses this toy Vale always cries. 

Going in will be so much worse for Celeste, who’s smaller, lighter. More slender.

Vale can empathise. He hates this toy. 

Good thing Celeste loves it. 

“Tell you what, I’ll lube it up for you, okay, pet? Isn’t that so kind of your master?”

“Wait—”

Celeste instinctively kicks out, but his knees have been tied so tight he can barely move. Vale runs a hand down Celeste’s heaving chest, down his midriff drenched in slick, to the crack of his ass, thumbing more lube into his entrance.

Vale grins. “When you used these toys on me you  _ never _ used lube.” 

“Please, p-please it’s going to hurt, I can’t, I—”

“Why not? You were so curious! You wanted to know—”

There’s real fear in those reddening eyes now, “It’s too much—” 

“You didn’t  _ believe _ I could do it. So I’m just showing you that I  _ can—” _

“Wait—!”

Vale lines up the toy with Celeste’s trembling, gaping entrance.

And pushes.

_ “Vale!” _

_ Vale? _

He’s… 

“V-Vale, Vale please…” 

He’s… he’s raped Celeste. 

Celeste, sagging against the bed frame, on the verge of unconsciousness, barely able to keep his eyes open. Covered in saliva and sweat and angry red lines from nails and lashes. A ring of teeth marks at his left shoulder. 

Semen on his face, on his ass, on his stomach, and he hasn’t even come  _ once _ — 

That’s Vale’s. It’s all Vale’s.

No, no  _ No. _ What has he done? Vale hurriedly eases the toy out as gently as he can — it’s hard, his hands are shaking, and Celeste moans when it comes free with a sickening squelch — 

_ What has he done? _

— he undoes the bindings and is up on his feet before Celeste even has time to curl into himself. 

Vale can’t look at him.

Celeste’s voice is perfectly level when he says, “Pet.” 

He can’t reply. 

He’s sitting at the far end of the room, away from Celeste. He can’t escape even if he wanted to, the locks run on magic — and after what he’s done he deserves to stay here for the rest of his days, in Celeste’s training room with the smell of blood and sweat and tears and fear.

_ It’s not like he wanted to do it. He was forced to. Celeste forced him. _

(Did he? Did he really? Because a part of you enjoyed it, don’t deceive yourself —  _ he tells himself, and it sounds almost like Celeste’s voice _ — you’re a monster, even more depraved and cruel than the man you hate with your entire core.)

“Pet.”

It shoots through him like a spear. It always does, but now it’s like the weapon’s glazed with poison — he aches, he aches so deeply. Vale tightens his fingers in his hair and forces his head against the cool concrete wall. The floor goes blurry again, a dark spot appearing amidst the dust. 

He takes a deep, shuddering breath. 

And in the grime and moss accumulated over years and years he sees it all happen again, when he decided that the right and wrong he cherished so greatly meant  _ nothing _ in the heat of sex and resentment and vengeance. 

When he decided that he'd throw away the last scraps of his own humanity himself, after clinging to it for so long. 

_ I was just… pets follow their orders. _

(Orders?  _ he thinks, _ Your captor ordered you to  _ stop. _ You did not. You did this. You did all of this.) 

Celeste walks over, his shadow growing on the wall. His footsteps are perfectly even. 

“Pet.” 

_ A pet follows his master’s orders.  _

It sounds like Celeste’s just looking him over. Detached, like he always is, back to being the ‘master’ he’s always known. He’s going to get it. For sure this time. And perhaps Celeste will decide not to heal him now, let him rot here like the criminal he is, wrung dry by infection and dysentery and all that suffocating guilt.  _ Finally left to die, _ as he should be.

He doesn’t even tense for the lash of a cane or the bite of the whip, because he deserves it. 

But nothing. 

Out the corner of his eye Vale can see Celeste’s shadow moving across the wall. He almost cries out for Celeste to stay. But he doesn’t deserve that, not now. He listens to the heavy metal door click open, shut, and the lock seals back in place. 

_ I, I didn’t… It wasn’t me, was it? I did it because I…  _

(Because I needed to prove that I was better than a pet? Liar. Who are you hoping to impress? Your captor? Your own shattered identity?) 

_ No… No. I did what I had to. _

And so punishment never comes, and even then everything hurts anyway. 

_ Maybe I am just a pet. _

_ Just Celeste’s pet.  _

_ That’s all I’m good for. _

_ Celeste. _ He whispers against the concrete walls, trying not to make a sound while coming apart at last, after all these months of trying to hang on to whatever little that was left of him —  _ Celeste, please.  _

As if there was anything worth keeping. Only a beast could do this. Only a monster would defile someone else's humanity.

_ Celeste, _ he whispers, like it will save him.

Vale closes his eyes, and it doesn’t even matter because the lights go out, and everything is dark, and cold, and he is alone.


End file.
